


The same as last year? - 6th of June

by BarkingBard



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: 20th Anniversary of filming, M/M, Mentions of Crema Italy, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-09 22:05:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19895086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarkingBard/pseuds/BarkingBard
Summary: Twenty years ago today, the 6th of June 2016, we were here in Crema, filming what was heralded as my big break. 'That Midnight Scene' and every year since, Armie and I have revisited that night.Please note:This is fiction. I don't know these people or what really happened on the 6th of June 2016 but this is what could have happened.





	The same as last year? - 6th of June

As I sit in the plane high above the Italian alps, I see little hamlets and villages dotted across the landscape. They show up as a collection of small lights and street lights. The air is clear, and I know it will be warm out. I have taken this flight so many times now but every time I am charmed by the sight of people going about their lives as I go about mine.

I exit through the VIP lounge, so I don’t have to put up with paparazzi clicking my return to Italy. The hire car takes longer than expected as the Friday night traffic on the motorways around Milan is slow. I should have flown through Bergamo. Two and a half hours later I pull up outside the hotel in Central Crema. The street is buzzing with tourists and locals enjoying the piazza. My key goal is to go upstairs and out of sight; I don’t want to any selfies with random ‘Peaches’!

Rosanna the Manager is there to greet me, and she asks politely about my flight and hands me the key. “The same as last year?” she enquires in a lilting Italian accent.

“Grazie, the same as every year, Rosanna,” I reply with a soft smile. It’s been 20 years and here we are for another session.

I open the door to the sound of the shower running and the smell of lavender soap. I place my small bag on the bed and take off the hoody and baseball cap – I don’t need to have a disguise here. I lay them next to his clothes and I can see him through the open bathroom door.

Framed in the glass shower screen is my one weakness, that ass: tight, round and full. Still covered in his downy hair that I love to run my hand through in the post orgasmic haze. Countries have gone to war over lesser things than Armie Hammer’s ass, and there have been times that I would have killed for it too.

“Is there room for me in there?” I ask in an overly dramatic tone to announce my presence.

“Hey baby-cakes! You made it. I was starting to wonder,” he said turning around to face me with a smile that could melt the ice caps.

The water cascades down his body, running in rivulets over his ‘not as tight’ abs and caressing his cock and balls as it falls to the floor and down the drain. I knew it wouldn’t be long until I was going to be following the similar trail down his body, I just hope I am not lost in the drain as well. He is in fine form for a 50-year-old. I would like to say I am as fit, but the years of dieting for roles and parenting two small humans had taken its toll on my physique. I am not too bad, I guess. They still employ me.

A huge blunt hand reaches from the shower and drags me into him, his body and up to his mouth. He has started early, I think to myself. I can taste the whiskey, cigars and marijuana swirling around. “Oh, you started without me!” I say with a pout that I was way too old to do but with him I was eternally 21.

“Babe, you were late, what could I do?” he shrugs.

“Well you are going to have to make it up to me.”

“I will do more than that,” he says laughing, his canine teeth flashing on either side of his perfect smile. He pulls me further in under the warm water.

I feign protest but am distracted by trying to stop him undressing me. This playful manner tonight is the best mood that I have seen him in in years. His brooding demure of the past five years has been caused by the almost complete ceasing of his acting career to focus on directing and producing.

The change of focus has had unforeseen costs and one of them is that he had to lose his chilled ‘island boy’ demeanor. You can’t get stoned every night with the director or the film will tank, taking millions of dollars of other people’s money with it. Not that he has had too many failures so far. The Academy has seen fit to award him ‘Best Director’ twice in a very short time and one ‘Best Picture’ for his latest movie. His change of career has paid off spectacularly, but he isn’t the same as he was before.

His own subtle acting style was always overlooked or misinterpreted as being ‘wooden’ but his intelligence and depth as a director is extraordinary. His profound insights into the human psyche is something that every actor is begging to be exposed to and involved with. He tells me point blank he will never cast me as I would be too much of a distraction on set and ‘The Wife’ would have his guts for garters, if he even suggested it.

Elizabeth is an extraordinary person. She knows Armie like no one else. In fact, I think she knows him better than t I do. She keeps him by letting him have a long leash. For that he lets her stay in the lifestyle that they both like to live, but if her wayward puppy strays too far from home or threatens ‘Brand Hammer’ or her children’s safety, she will pull him back in and reprimand him. I would like to think the children comes before the brand but sometimes I am not too sure.

She is a very tolerant woman, all said. The man has an insatiable oral fixation and a sexual appetite that would make Caligula blush. There is always something in his mouth. Food, wine, cigarettes, cigars, joints, street meats, rope, a model’s breasts, my cock: the list is endless of what he needs to have in his mouth.

He likes to think of himself as a free spirit, but it is more of an extremely spoilt brat who was taken off the breast too soon by that wizen bitch that bore him. He has spent most of his life paying in one way or another to sate that fixation. After the inheritance came through his net worth more than quadrupled and he can now afford to shove anything he wants into his mouth.

At this moment it is my neck he has his mind set on and he bites me. His hands are pushing down my wet pants as his hard, blunt cock pushes into me from behind. Even totally out of his mind that flag pole would raise and salute anyone willing to get on it. I need to slow him down.

***

Twenty years ago today, the 6th of June 2016, we were here in Crema, filming what was heralded as my big break. We were staying in this very hotel and the schedule was grueling. The heat was oppressive, the flies incessant and the expectations of Luca and the producers and my agent and everyone at home was that this film would make my career. The leading role where I could showcase my ‘extraordinary skills’ (I am rolling my eyes as I write this). The pressure was extreme.

Luca was fantastic and fatherly, as only he can be, but to work for him, he was infuriating and obtuse in his directorial methods. “Timmie, you are a bubble on a wave. Be that bubble on the wave. Do you feel yourself becoming that bubble? Can you see yourself floating there? No no no… not like that. Like a soap bubble not seafoam.” He would shout at me.

What the fuck that was meant to mean, to this day I have no fucking idea.

And then there was the big ‘A. H.’ He was brash, blond, bold and the ‘Star of the movie’. He was slumming it, because his last couple of movies had flopped and he needed to win the hearts of critics with an emotional indie movie. All the altruistic drivel about Luca calling him and begging Armie to do it or the other story of Liz saying it was the most beautiful book she had ever read, was manufactured bullshit. His career was flat-lining and he needed to get out of the country to resuscitate it.

From day one he was too much. Over the top, too touchy, taking up my space, in my face and wouldn’t leave me alone. He would always have something resting on me. He was claiming me as his. He would drape his hand on me or his arm over my shoulder, his leg on mine, a foot around my ankles. It was borderline harassment. I felt trapped and encased in the big brute but couldn’t say anything, I just had to go along with it.

And then a couple of weeks into filming it hit me, he was training me to be the ‘Elio’ character that I was meant to be playing and that he needed me to be. He was pushing me to lust after him, crave his attention and affection, long for his touch, just as Elio would have for Oliver.

He was also marking his space. No one came near me when he was around, he wanted me to not have any distractions from the task at hand, adoring him. I was marked as ‘Property of Armie Hammer’.

He made sure that he wasn’t acting against some cardboard cutout clueless kid, who didn’t know how to make love to him. He was training me and directing my attentions and actions. It was Armie who got me that Oscar Nomination. The critics talk about the extraordinary chemistry that we had on film, but it was all him oozing out over the top of me. Every ounce of charm and charisma that he could rub on me he did, and I shone for the polishing.

He had told me on one of the first nights that he was going to hold back in the kissing scenes. “He had to make it look like he was acting!! But you go for it, kid. The fans will eat it up.” He told me.

Apparently, it would affect his ‘brand’ if he looked too eager to kiss a dude but what did I have to lose?

He played his role magnificently. He was playing a straight man acting as gay/bi man but still acting as though he wasn’t that into it so the audience wouldn’t question his sexuality. The lack of believability would cost him dearly in the award season.

He has a subtle studied way about him. Which I blame on his childhood trauma of the premature return to the States. Where he would soon discover you can’t hold hands with your friends and that not everyone liked to suck his dick before they go for a swim together.

He had it beaten into him that he needed to mask his feelings, desires and emotions. Cover himself with quirky hobbies and witty banter and control his gestures. He was a natural actor, because that is all he ever does. Where does the actor stop, and Armie begin??? Who knows, I don’t. Even after all this time.

By 11 pm, the Midnight scene was in the can, in the relatively closed set, the two of us had spent the evening mostly naked. Pushing the bounds of non-sexual acting. Rubbing and grinding and kissing and caressing against each other. Under the hot cinema lights in the cramped bedroom, the temperature felt like a million degrees and I felt everything usually hidden from others by clothes.

I was hot and flustered and I couldn’t take anything else off to cool down. Other than removing the 6’5” brute claiming his territory over my body. I was sweaty, sore and almost numb. My mouth was torn up from beard burn and my balls ached. I was cranky and had had enough.

Luca had called it a day at last after three full takes and several casual close-up shots and long pans. Once we were free to go, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. The crew was going out for the usual drinks and a late dinner, but I made my apologies. I was going to my room to get the stink of our sweat and the feeling of being ‘almost fucked’ off me.

And there he was leaning against my door as I arrived at my hotel room. Of course he was, the fucker!

He had a fresh joint between his fingers which he raised up as I approached. He was telling me that he had come to check on me and to see how I was after ‘the big sex scene day’. I almost believed him for a second and then remembered his wife wasn’t around. I was not in the position to refuse him entry to my room or do anything that could destroy our precarious professional relationship.

Armie started to light the paper as he walked through the door and handed it straight over to me. I didn’t realize until later that the ‘lost Island boy’ act was another of his learned behaviors. He used his wealth to buy his friends. Every gift he gave was considered and planned and never as spontaneous as he liked to make out. If he gave you something, there was always a price to be paid.

Whether it was porn to other teenagers or joints to the cast and crew on set, or fancy dinners for girlfriends, he always felt he needed to have something to exchange for them bothering to give him time. No matter how big and famous and gorgeous he had become, he was still that fat boy who spoke funny and was never cool enough. He was a lost soul looking for his lost friends.

On this occasion he was buying a release of his pent-up sexual tension. Even though I was tired and frustrated from making out with him all day, the joint did what it was intended to do. I relaxed enough to let him have his way.

Now, neither of us were virgins in any sense of the word, but he was being careful with how he was playing this. His trepidation infuriated me more than I would have thought, and he would come to understand my frustration.

The stilted conversation and grunted replies didn’t stop him trying to hit on me. I knew from his fat cock rubbing all over me all day that there was no way he was going to walk in here and have his way with my backside. I would be fucking him on this occasion.

We sat on the sofa and he innocently played with the seam of the collar of my shirt. He was doing his usual ‘overly touchy’ thing he did to me every day. The back of his hand was stroking my collarbone and it seemed so light, but it wasn’t at all. He was trying to get me worked up. He was itching to get that shirt off and so I relieved him of its inconvenience by stripping it off myself and I absentmindedly cast it aside. He sat in stoned stunned awe as I now sat shirtless next to him.

His eyes firmly focused on the small burgundy discs of my nipples and then he waited. I watched him waiting for me to make the move, but I didn’t budge. He adjusted himself in his trousers and said nothing. Watching his body, it moved slowly with electric shudders of excitement.

We had forgotten to talk for about ten minutes as we just sat there in our mutual buzzed out state. I slid a finger along his jaw line, feeling the bristle that had torn at my skin throughout the day. Raising his face to meet my gaze, and my mouth. He bit at me hungrily and we both moved quickly to release our bodies from the confines of our remaining clothes.

Taking up where we had left off under the cinema lights, I thrust my aching cock into his mouth. He wasn’t expecting it and gagged as it slipped out again from his wet lips. His eyes were still watering as he began to lap along my hard length. Circling the glands that ring the head, he slid me back into his mouth and I let out a groan as he made a humming sound which reverberated through my body. This was definitely not the first time he had given a blow job. A long string of saliva kept the link between us as he raised his head and asked, “Wanna fuck?”

He didn’t have to ask twice.

I was in a foul mood with him and the world in general and he would be bearing the brunt of it. I was tired, strung out and infuriated with the weeks of all this foreplay bullshit. He was going to get his fuck and he wouldn’t be forgetting it anytime soon.

Bending him over the edge of sofa and exposing that furry ass I would grow to love, I spat on my hand to use as lube. I rubbed it over the end and shoved it into him quickly before it dried. I was being brutal and still have no idea what had taken over me. I heard him take a sharp breath as I pierced his hole.

He body moved involuntary away from the source of the pain and I clung to him tighter. Wrapping my arms under his chest and clasping his shoulders, I had total control of his body. All he could do was take it and hold on for the ride. I drilled into him hard and fast and he groaned with each thrust. As he tried to breathe through my assault, Armie was not going to have an easy time on a bike tomorrow nor was he going to forget this anytime soon.

When I came not too long later, I sprayed all the frustration and anger inside him and he took it with a blissed-out smile. He was such a filthy fucker. Nothing I could throw at him ever bothered him at all. I pushed away from him and passed out in my own hormonal rush.

The next morning, I woke in my bed with a large arm around me and his cock sliding along my crack from behind trying to get inside me. Reaching into the bedside table, I extracted a tube of lube, and covered his cock and as many fingers as I could fit up my own ass. He merrily used all his weight to pound me deep into the mattress, my own spunk absorbing into the fabric as he mewed on my ear taking his own sweet time to cum. Like multiple electric shocks his orgasm spasmed through his body and we were both left lying there panting.

***

Now this was not the best sex of my life. I do have more of a preference for fucking women but there was a freedom that comes from fucking someone who doesn’t care how far you go. Sex with Armie filled a hunger that I still can’t articulate or explain.

I still cringe to think of the way I had acted and how I had fucked him with such venom. It was something that I never thought would go on and change my life, but it did. And twenty years on it continues to draw me back, every year for one more time.

Armie doesn’t care who he fucks, it just has to be hard, fast and often, as I would discover over the rest of the days of filming. So if it was a friend it made it better for him and he could let himself go. Friendship and sex are inexplicably tied in his head. I had become one of his best friends by being available and willing to do him as often as he wanted.

For the rest of the filming, every spare moment, he would drag me into a closet or toilet or darkened room and rub one out on, in or near me. I learnt to have myself primed to take him without much notice and being almost ten years his junior made it easier for me to recover but his prostate was the equivalent of the Olympic athlete of prostates.

Filming ended, and we were contractually obliged to travel and sell the film, which meant he had me at his beck and call and his wife turned a blind eye to the gestures and longing glances from him. I came to depend on his warmth, wit and encouragement. All too soon that was also over, and I had to stand on my own two feet again.

There was no reason for us to meet up or hang out, but we still liked to meet up often. He was on his side of the country and me on the other. He took roles that would have him flying through New York or would orchestrate excuses but as the time went on, there was no real reason for either of us to see each other. So it got less and less as time went on.

In the third year after the ‘Midnight scene’, I got an email with a ticket to Italy attached. I would be met by a car and taken to parts unknown. It wasn’t until I arrived that I realized that it was the 6th of June and he would have me back in the same room as our first time. He was a sentimental guy and he wanted to remind me of or have me reenact what I had done to him that first night.

It had been months since we had seen each other, and I had missed the big guy and so I gave in to his demands and whims. I fucked him hard, fast and dry.

He lay naked on the bed, legs and arms wide snoring as the slick of me oozed out of him. I didn’t ask him later, but I was very sore from our weekend. I had to rush back to Budapest to continue filming and was almost totally useless for action scenes for the following week.

The next year he was my best man and much to Liz’s chagrin there was no role for her as my fiancé had other people lined up for the bridesmaids. She stood by his side and she never looked quite the same at me. I had stopped her from shining and she wouldn’t forget it.

That year I took him to Crema and he told me how he had tried to fix things between Elizabeth and I but she wouldn’t have me to the house again.

Or at least not until I had made it up to her. The opportunity came the following year when she became an ambassador for Louis Vuitton because I put in a good word for her with their marketing team. You would have thought that I was the hen that laid the golden eggs. All was almost forgotten.

By the ‘ten year reunion’ of the movie’s release my two toddlers and his teens all joined us in returning to Crema. We managed to stay a couple of extra days alone because Luca had organized a separate event to commemorate the end of filming and so we managed to have our customary weekend together.

And here we are 20 years later. Still meeting up every year, two old men clinging desperately trying to fuck our way to reliving our youth.

***

I lay in his arms on top of the covers. We hadn’t even got into the bed this time before he got in me. His spunk was still drying, and he was looking pretty damn pleased with himself. I asked him point blank, “So what’s happened?”

“I don’t know what you mean?” he retorted with a shit eating grin.

“I haven’t seen you this happy in years. What did you do?” I inquired?

“She’s left me!” was all he said in a matter of fact way.

“What, why? What happened this time?” I stammered out quickly as the ramifications sunk in.

“André approached me to direct the sequel. Since Luca isn’t with us to do it. He feels that I will do both him and Luca proud,” Armies said with a sparkle in his eye.

“She put her foot down and said she wouldn’t stand for another twenty years of those ‘Shippers’ yelling at her. She said she would put a stop to and that I should forget it as it wasn’t going to happen. I gave her time to cool down and then told her that I had already signed up to the project. She yelled and wasn’t listening when I told her why I had to do it. I simply said to her, I love him!” and he was gesturing at me.

“Shit! So… what is going to happen now?”

“The kids are financially independent and Fordy’s full trust fund comes through next year. They will be fine. She will get a percentage of my net worth as is stipulated by our pre-nup. I am a free man. My plan is to move closer to you, so you don’t have to do that ‘sad single Dad thing’ as much. But for the immediate future, I just know that if either of us can walk after the next four days, I will be greatly disappointed.”

Slapping me hard on my left buttock, a gigantic red hand print bloomed on my pale skin, I realized that he was marking his territory again.


End file.
